


Honey, I'm Home!

by Flimflamflummox



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Gen, Guess who Odin really is?, Guilt, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-25 06:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flimflamflummox/pseuds/Flimflamflummox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mike goes to the bathroom, Abby decides to explore the house a bit more. The catch? Let's just say she's after something very different than a glimpse into the life of her boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Okay, let's get to dinner," Mike Warren said cheerfully as he stepped out of the bathroom. He was excited to go on his date, but even more importantly, he had to get Abby out of the house now.  


"Abby?" he called warily upon glimpsing his empty bedroom. He refused to let himself panic. Not yet. Rushing over to his dresser, he removed the coat he had hastily thrown there earlier and was relieved to see his gun laying underneath it, entirely undisturbed. Mike shrugged on the coat, concealing the gun underneath. Unconsciously, he fingered his pocketed FBI credentials. Although they were barely a few months old, they were already the more worn than Briggs's, due to his habit of rubbing them like a stress stone.  


He eased open the door, thanking the door hinge gods for not unleashing their wrath in any form of loud squeak or a myriad of other undesirable door hinge noises.  


From downstairs, Paige called, "Mike? You home? What's up?"  


Crap. Crap crap crap crap.  


"Just grabbing my coat!" he called back nervously. Where was Abby? Obviously Paige hadn't seen her or he'd be in deep shit by now.  


"Okay, well I gotta go, so make sure to lock up after me!" she replied.  


"Will do!"  


He exhaled deeply as he heard the door shut and descended to the first floor. "Alright, David Copperfield, you've done your disappearing act, now it's time to stop playing hide and seek and go to dinner!"  


Turning at the sound of rustling papers, he went polar-bear-plunge cold at the sight of Abby leaving his office.  


"What were you doing in there?" he gasped.  


She shrugged. "Checking out your office. Or was that some sort of shrine to paperwork?"  


"You didn't...read any of it?" he breathed.  


She laughed, and despite himself, it made him feel at ease. Damn, he was in love with this girl. "Hell, no. No offense, but it looked way too boring to be my type of reading material."  


He laughed. "Says the one who's going into law."  


"Touché." As she reached up to ruffle his hair, Mike heard the sound of crinkling paper again.  


"What's that?" he asked, positive she hadn't been carrying any papers before. He felt dread well up in his gut, and fought not to puke as he waited for the rational explanation that his girlfriend would surely provide.  


She smiled mischievously. "I was expecting you to take longer, so I didn't get a chance to hide it any better." She reached into the wasteband of her pants and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "I was hoping to surprise you, but I guess that's not going to work out like I'd planned."  


She made to hand him the papers, but jerked them away when he reached for them, laughing playfully.  


"Oh, real mature," he laughed with her, "Now let me see them."  


"Alright, since you said please," she giggled.  


"I didn't say please," he rolled his eyes.  


"Oh, you didn't, did you?" she asked with overexaggerated thoughtfulness, "Then why should I let you see?"  


He sighed. "Please?"  


Grinning, she handed over the papers with a flourish. Mike shook his head and glanced down.  


No. 

What he saw couldn't be right. He fanned out the papers in his hand, feeling adrenaline pulse through him with every page that had the same header. "Rossi, Odin."  


The Odin files.  


"What the-" he spluttered, turning around just in time to see Abby close the utensils drawer and hold a knife, point first, toward his throat.  


"Be a gentleman and hold onto those for me, will ya?" she smiled coldly.  


"Abby, what are you doing?" he asked as his hand drifted towards his concealed weapon.  


The knife was pressed against his carotid artery, and he froze. Maybe spoons weren't the only silverware they needed to hide in Graceland.  


With her other hand, Abby fished in his jacket and pulled out his gun, cocking it and pointing it right between his eyes.  


He stiffened, and they both jumped as there was a knock on the door, causing the knife to cut shallowly into Mike's left shoulder. "Ah!" he cried.  


"Mike?" Paige called through the door. "You okay?"  


"If you try to tip her off I will slit your throat and shoot her when she walks through that door," Abby hissed with alarming sincerity.  


Licking his lips nervously as he put his hands behind his head, he yelled, "You just startled me. What do you need?"  


"I just wanted to make sure you were ok. The more I thought about it, the more I realized you were acting kinda weird before."  


"I'm fine," he answered, squinting his eyes in pain at the irony. "I have a date, that's all."  


"Alright, just know I'm on your side, okay? I'm here if you need me."  


Staring into Abby's suddenly cold, cunning eyes, he thought about how much he needed Paige now and almost screamed in frustration. Sensing his tension, Abby held the knife more firmly against his throat and swiveled the gun towards the door.  


"I know, Paige," he said quickly, "Thanks."  


"...sure," Paige said, sounding anything but. 

They waited in silence until they heard Paige's car pull away from the house.  


Mike stared at Abby, unsure what to do or say as she tucked the knife into a pocket and gripped the gun with both hands.  


"Well, Agent Warren," she said grimly. "Congratulations. You've come closer than any other agent ever has to Odin Rossi."


	2. Chapter 2

"You can't be Odin!" Mike blurted without thinking.

Abby raised an eyebrow. "I can't?"

"No," Mike answered grimly, "Odin attacked me from behind. He was a guy my size with obvious combat training on par with what we learn at Quantico."

Abby chuckled. "No, Mike. Odin is a petite brunette with no formal combat training besides what she learned on the job. That person you just described sounds an awful lot like your friend Paul."

Mike was quiet, his eyes darting towards Paul's room. It couldn't be...could it? But why?

"Take out your phone. Slowly," Abby ordered. 

Mike took out his phone and laid it on the counter-top. Grinning, Abby swept it to the floor and crushed it under her heel. "Payback."

"That's fair," Mike conceded, trying to edge his way to the staircase. If he could just get up the stairs, he could grab one of the guns they left on the table at the top. 

"Oh, come on Mike, that's just pathetic. Get back here," she demanded. 

Mike sighed and inched back towards Abby. "So, what? You gonna kill me?"

"Not unless you give me a reason to," she said grimly.

"Duly noted," he replied. "But if you're really Odin, how did we end up together? There's no way it could just be a coincidence."

"It's not."

Did that mean that Paige-?

"Paige has no idea, Agent Warren," she smirked. 

"But Paige introduced us. I thought you said it wasn't a coincidence," he pointed out. "So how could Paige not have known?"

"Mike, honey, my lifestyle is such that the urge to shoot someone grows exponentially with every question he asks."

"Dammit, Abby!" Mike exploded. "What the hell do you want from me? If you just wanted to make my life hell, then mission accomplished!"

Abby renewed her two handed grip on the gun. "Agent Warren, that is no way to speak to your superiors!"

Mike flinched, but didn't back down. "Well, you're just some lowlife street criminal selling shitty heroin to junkies who'd kill their own mothers for a fix!"

Enraged, Abby pulled out the knife and immediately drove it into his right calf.  
"Ow!" Mike cried as she twisted it slightly before removing it. 

"You're going to shut up and put your handcuffs and keys on the counter. Now."

Shaking slightly, Mike did as he was told. He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened as she snapped them tightly to his wrists behind his back and pocketed the key. He felt her hand on his shoulder guiding him to the door as she said, "Come on, babe. Let's get out of here."


	3. Chapter 3

Mike silently cursed the fact that they had taken Abby's van to the house. The van should have been a tip off. Really, how many single college girls drove around in black vans? As they approached the vehicle, Mike nervously proclaimed "shotgun!" and angled for the passenger door. 

"Cute," Abby hauled him back by the shirt collar and opened the back doors to the van. "Get in."

"No way," Mike countered, "I've seen Silence of the Lambs."*

Scowling, Abby pushed him forward. Caught off balance, Mike crumpled in a graceless heap in the back of the van. He yelped in pain as his injured leg banged against the floor. "Do not speak. Do not move. Do not even sneeze. I know better than to underestimate an FBI agent. You twitch, you die," she explained slowly, slamming the doors on Mike's crestfallen face. 

As he felt the van stutter to life beneath him, Mike struggled with the handcuffs. He twisted his wrists and barely resisted thrashing up to a sitting position by reminding himself of Abby's threat. He tried to keep track of the twists and turns they took, but his mind was somewhat hazy from either shock or blood loss, so when the doors swung open 10 minutes later, he was completely surprised by their destination. They were back at Abby's house.

Lights shone softly out of the windows, allowing Mike to see the two identical black vans now parked to the side. Without a moment's pause, Abby dug her hand into the back of Mike's neck and forcibly dragged him out of the car. Mike knew from his training that, when compromised, an agent should allow himself to be manhandled and pushed around. It gave an impression of weakness or compliance, which often lead to captors slipping up or making careless mistakes. Stumbling along as Abby forced him up the steps, however, Mike realized bitterly that he wasn't really acting all that much. He was terrified and in pain, and Abby was surprisingly strong. At least Johnny and Jakes couldn't say anything derisive. They had also been taken hostage by a girl at one point. And really, thinking of Charlie, Paige, and Lauren, he realized that, beyond grade school, the stigma of boys versus girls was pretty obsolete. Especially when the great equalizer-- that is, guns-- was factored into the equation. Sadly, none of this provided any consolation for the fact that he had been kidnapped by his own freaking girlfriend. 

Mike wasn't sure who he'd expected to answer the door, but he felt relief the instant it swung open to reveal a total stranger. After all, the way his luck was running, he was just glad that it wasn't one of the many Russian mob members he had managed to piss off.

"Odin!" a rotund man, perhaps half an inch shorter than Mike, greeted cheerily from the doorway. "How'd it go?" He stepped aside and let Abby steer Mike onto a couch, where he slouched warily. At least she had the decency to recuff his hands in front of him now that she had backup.

"Oh, you know," she replied airily. "Breakups are hard. Someone's bound to get hurt. Speaking of which, could you wrap a bandage around agent Warren's leg, please? Paleness is very unbecoming on him." 

Another man sauntered over to a cabinet and passed the first a length of gauze bandages and some rubbing alcohol. Mike jerked back when he felt Abby's hand on his belt buckle. "Relax, agent," she laughed, "We're just trying to properly treat your injuries. Besides, these pants are all bloody and gross. I'll get you a clean pair."

Mike shut his eyes and concentrated on breathing as the man roughly applied stinging alcohol and patched him up. The second man snickered as Abby redressed him in a pair of his pants she had in the dryer. Mike understood that undressing a prisoner was a common humiliation tactic, but, as the chuckling man had no doubt guessed, he was much more ashamed by the fact that Abby had some of his clothes than that he had briefly been in his boxers. She had his clothes because she was his girlfriend. The shame finally hit him full force. He was the worst kind of screw up. As an FBI agent, he was limited in who he could get close to. So far, he had only chosen to incorporate one person into his life-- the rest having been chosen for him-- and she was a drug dealer. Keeping his eyes closed, he leaned his head wearily on the back of the couch. 

"Aww. Mike's had a rough night." Abby observed mockingly. 

"What now?" one of the men asked. 

"We've got a couple things to attend to before we have to be on our way. Luis, come help me over here. Jonah, keep an eye on Romeo, could ya?" Abby ordered gleefully. 

"Hehe. 'Romeo'." the man laughed.

Mike opened his eyes a crack to see the fat one pulling up a chair across from him. "It beats Jonah," Mike snapped. 

The man chuckled. "That's just my nickname. Jonah the Whale."

Mike let out a small, hysterical giggle, which he successfully kept from turning into a sob. 

Jonah scooted forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Hey, do you know what she's gonna do to you?"

Mike groaned pitifully. "What?"

"I have no idea, man, that's why I asked."

The hysterical giggle resurfaced. "Look man, I don't know what game you're trying to play, but I can't take much more of this."

"What's your blood type?" Jonah asked.

"The hell do you care?"

"I think you need some serious transfusions if we want to keep you alive." Jonah replied, his voice colored with what passed for concern.

"Then you probably don't have to worry about it. You a doctor or something?" Mike asked, his voice slightly slurred.

"No, but I've seen enough blood loss in my time," was Jonah's awkward reply. He turned around and called, "Hey, Odin, your boy's not looking so good! Should I get him some water or something?" 

"No, you should make sure he doesn't try to escape. He's an FBI agent, dammit!" she yelled back.

"He don't look like much of a threat!" Jonah protested. 

"JONAH!" she screamed.

"Sorry, dude, no water." he told Mike sheepishly. 

Rallying his strength, Mike opened his eyes and locked gazes with Jonah. "Jonah, come on, you seem like a pretty good guy. I didn't do...anything. I don't deserve this! Why don't you just help me out here? We'll go back to base, get you cleared of all charges, hell, you'll probably get a medal. What do you say?" Mike looked at him hopefully, completely unprepared for the heavy punch to the gut that he received.

Mike doubled over in pain as Jonah hissed, "You will not last long if you keep that up, my man. You're property of Odin now. Do you know what happens to people who steal from Odin?"

Upon realizing it was not a rhetorical question, Mike shook his head, still clutching his stomach.

"Exactly. None of us do. All we have to go off of are screams and real messy clean-up jobs. But, look, I don't see why people should get hurt unnecessarily, so here's a little advice: Keep your head down. Cooperate. Let the other Feds try to find you, set up an exchange or something. As far as I know, Odin keeps her word on that sort of thing. You just focus on surviving and not pissing her off. You lay low, and there's a chance you will not die." 

Mike nodded feebly, then confessed, "I don't want to d-die." He looked so incredibly vulnerable, pale and shaking from blood loss. He was obviously out of it, probably talking to himself rather than Jonah. 

"Yeah, well, none of us do." he replied sagely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *And somehow I managed to make Mike quote How I Met Your Mother. No regrets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the group text isn't too hard to understand. It's just unrealistic to expect those conversations to be entirely comprehensible with so many people texting at once. I styled it after the group texts between my friends and I.

Having just left from a one-night stand, Johnny was exhausted when he stumbled into the house at 2 am. As such, it failed to occur to him that the door was unlocked. It was as he plodded to the staircase that he felt a fragment of something underneath his left foot. Sighing, he flicked on the downstairs light switch and blinked at the floor uncomprehendingly. Finally, the situation registered with him. "Shit." He mumbled. It looked like he didn't get to sleep yet after all.

\------------------------------------------

Paige jumped when her phone buzzed, interrupting a tense conversation with her C.I. She ignored it briefly, but reluctantly checked after it buzzed twice more. She glanced at the screen, stopped, did a shot of whiskey, and checked again. More messages had appeared in the interim. Paige grimly joined the conversation.

John: Please tell me one of you is with Mikey. (2:08)

Charlie: No. (2:08)

Paul: Nope. Thought he went to bed. (2:09)

Charlie: What is it? (2:09)

Charlie: Like he could sleep right now, Paul! (2:10)

Dale: Not with me. This better be important. I hate group texts. (2:11)

Me: He's not with me now but I talked to him earlier. He was acting funny, but I figured he just wanted to be alone. (2:11)

John: It is important! I think Mike's in trouble! (2:11)

John: Now I KNOW Mike's in trouble. (2:12)

Paul: How funny? (2:12)

Charlie: What trouble? (2:13)

Dale: Get to the point! (2:13)

John: The door was unlocked and Mike's phone is smashed on the floor. (2:14)

Paul: Be there in 5 (2:15)

Charlie: Leaving now (2:15)

Dale: On my way.  (2:15)

Me: Be there soon (2:15)

Paige smiled awkwardly at her C.I. "It's an emergency. I have to go."

\------------------------------------------

Mike didn't know how much time passed as he sat there shaking, but, finally, he was roused by the smell of chemicals. He looked up and came eye to eye with Abby for the first time since this all began. He recoiled at what he saw; eyes that had once been full of love now met his gaze dispassionately. She didn't even hate him! She looked at him the way he'd seen Bello look at the lackey from the Caza cartel, like she didn't give a damn* if he lived or died. 

"Hmm...he does look bad," she remarked. 

Jonah snorted and threw his hands in the air. "THANK you!"

"Wha-what's that sm-smell?" Mike inquired through chattering teeth. 

Instead of answering, Abby ordered "lean your head forward."

In response, Mike pushed farther back into the couch. The other man, Luis, grabbed a handful of Mike's hair and jerked his head painfully downward. Mike's hands fluttered uselessly in his lap. The chemical smell drew nearer, and Mike barely had time to close his eyes before a black piece of cloth was tied around them. 

For a second, nothing happened. Then his eyes teared up in response to the fumes wafting from the blindfold. Before long, his eyes began to sear. Mike choked down a groan. Were they already torturing him? 

Finally, Abby removed the cloth, and Mike blinked gratefully. Then he blanched. "What did you do?"

"Relax," Abby laughed, "It's not permanent. You'll get back your sight in a few days. Anyway, blindfolds are too easy to get off." Suddenly, he felt cold hands once more on his face. He gasped and flinched away in surprise, but Abby held him still by the back of his head and tied a clean piece of cloth around his eyes. Before he had a chance to question it, she answered, "That's so my people can tell you're blind. Wouldn't want anyone giving you directions and getting snappy when you don't follow."

Mine nodded; it was logical enough. He just hoped she was telling the truth. Right now, he wouldn't put it past her to blind him permanently. A few tears slipped out from under the blindfold.

"He scared of the dark or something?" Jonah questioned.

"It's the blinding chemicals," Luis spoke for the first time. He had a thick Hispanic accent. "They burn like a mother."

Jonah whistled. "Now what? I think it's safe to say he's not going anywhere, can we get the boy some water? And, you know, maybe a pint of blood?"

Mike resented being called a boy, but he held his tongue and allowed Jonah to lobby for him. 

"When did you go so soft?" Abby's voice drifted through the blackness.

"Soft? You're surprised that I'm SOFT? I ain't 300 pounds of MUSCLE! You want soft, poke my stomach!" 

Abby snorted. "Breathe. In and out. When was the last time you shot up?"

"It's been a while." Jonah answered awkwardly.

"I can tell. Why don't you go take care of that?" She put a hand under Mike's chin and lifted his head. "I'm willing to hurt you. I'll torture you, and I'll kill you if I have to. I won't lose a minute's sleep over it either, because I'm Odin and Odin. Never. Sleeps. You got that?"

Mike nodded slowly. "No, I don't think you do. You're still thinking of me as Abby, aren't you?" She backhanded him and he fell back against the couch. In the distance, Luis chortled. Abby grabbed his chin again. "I'm Odin. Let me hear you say it."

Mike wasn't sure why he was so reluctant to do so; he could only reason that if he called her Odin, this would all become REAL. 

Mike felt Abby gesture with her other hand, and Luis started making sounds in the kitchen. "I'll give you water if you ask." Abby told him sweetly.

Mike wasn't an idiot. He needed water. "Please."

He heard Luis's approach, and felt a cold water bottle land between his cuffed hands. He began to unscrew the lid, but Abby grabbed him by the wrist. "Please who?" 

Gritting his teeth, he seethed "Please...Odin." 

She ruffled his hair. "Enjoy your water, champ."  
\------------------------------------------

Briggs was first to arrive. "Yo, why you gotta tell me what time you'll be here if you're just gonna lie about it?" Johnny groused.

"What? I remembered I was an FBI agent, ran all the red lights, and got here in three minutes instead of five. So what are we up against?" Briggs shrugged off Johnny's misplaced aggression. 

"Like I said. There's the phone." Johnny pointed.

Briggs nodded, all business. "Have you checked anywhere else? His room? His office?"

"Nah. Not yet." Johnny was visibly disturbed, so Paul decided not to push it.

"It's probably nothing." He clapped his fellow agent on the back and stepped into Mike's study, closing the door behind him. The place was ransacked.

Distantly, he heard Charlie throw open the door and bombard Johnny with questions.

Paul carefully sifted through the files, trying to figure out what was missing. It wasn't too hard. 

"Hell." he muttered, crinkling a piece of scrap paper in his hand. 

The Odin files were missing.

This just got a lot more complicated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Props to anyone who knows why in my head I just went "You don't give a daaaammmnn...you've always known who I am"
> 
> Point of interest: It appears I may have accidentally written myself in as Jonah. I let my guard down because he's a 300 pound man who works for the mob and I am not, and it appears he's developed my personality. I'd hate for this to turn into some kind of really, really weird Mary Sue type thing, so I'm considering writing him out. What do you guys think? Should Jonah be voted off the island?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, poor Mike! I feel like such an awful person for doing all this to him...I'll find a way to make it up to you, Mike! I promise!

Mike drank the entire bottle in under 30 seconds, spilling a bit on his shirt. Odin smirked as she retrieved the bottle. He looked entirely too pathetic to be an FBI agent. Movement drew her attention to his lap, where he appeared to be feeling the lock on his handcuffs, likely learning the shape so that he could pick it quickly given the opportunity. She laughed to herself and decided that, no, he looked exactly like an FBI agent. 

"Luis, Jonah. Load up the cars. Check the perimeter. We'll be out when you give us the all-clear," she ordered, and watched the men scramble out the door. She snorted when they both tried to leave at the same time and got stuck in the door frame. Trading drugs for service was a great way to ensure loyalty. It was not a great way to keep a team sharp. She wondered what Mike thought of her men. He'd probably try to manipulate them as soon as he realized just how dumb they were. She made a mental note to shut him up. Soon.

Perhaps sensing her eyes upon him, Mike directed his unseeing gaze upwards. "Look...what do you want? You've got to know this is a huge risk you're taking. I've got people who will look for me. Hell, they're already looking for you! Why don't you just work with us and save yourself from what you know is coming?"

"And what would that be, Agent? Arrest? I don't think so. You're all farther off my trail than ever." she answered smugly.

"What do you mean by that? We must be getting close! Why else would you take me?" He sounded desperate, even panicky. His breathing was quicker; shallower. But he was still thinking.

"It's part of the plan," she answered vaguely.

"What plan?" 

"This is the part where I tell you my entire evil scheme, right? Nice try, kid." She pulled out the knife and pressed it to his lips. "But seriously, it's time to shut up now."

"I didn't-" he started to insist but she pressed down harder on the knife. His hands shot up and pushed at her wrist. Startled, she let the knife drop.

Mike gave a short gasp when he heard the clatter of the knife on the ground. Pushing off with his good leg, he bolted for the door with surprising surety. The bastard had a freakishly good sense of direction, even when blinded. That was good to know. Odin noticed with amusement that her men hadn't shut the door fully. Mike crashed through the door and kept running, casting off the handcuffs as he went. So, he managed to pick them after all. Sneaky son of a bitch.

Jonah's muffled "Wha?" and Luis's "ah, shit!" indicated that Mike had cleared the driveway. Odin laughed as she opened the door to see a dumbfounded Jonah standing next to one of the vans while Luis took off in Mike's direction. 

"He won't get far, right? I mean, he doesn't know where he's going." Jonah said hesitantly. 

"He knows exactly where he's going. He's been here before and his memory is a steel trap," Odin chuckled. 

"But we're not worried because...?"

She grinned as Luis tripped and Mike made a beeline for the shopping center he knew was a few miles away.

"Because we have a car, J." With that, she pushed past him and swung into the drivers's seat.

"Of course. Yeah. I probably would have thought of that. Eventually." Jonah nodded.

She cut him off. "Just be ready with the duct tape when I get back."

As she pulled away, she heard Jonah mutter, "Oh, shit just got real!" 

Even without flooring the accelerator, she was gaining on Mike quickly. Luis jumped out of her way as she drove past, and Mike stumbled at the noise of the car. Immediately, he regained his footing and took off at an even faster, no doubt adrenalin-fueled, pace. Then, quite suddenly, he stopped short, still facing away from her. He bent down and clutched his bad leg. A ruse? A surrender? Odin didn't know or care. The sooner he realized the kid gloves were off, the better.

Using an extreme amount of self-control, she reduced her speed to 15 before driving straight into Mike. She hit him in the lower back, then immediately slammed the brakes. Mike fell forward and tumbled a few feet. Then he was entirely still.

Odin hopped out of the car and strode over to the groaning, sprawled out form of Mike. She wedged her foot under his stomach and flipped him onto his back to examine the damage. The bandage on his leg had ripped and blood soaked the torn right leg of his jeans. The shallow cut in his shoulder from earlier had ripped open further, and could no longer be considered a "shallow" cut. He clutched his right wrist to his chest. The hand was slightly abraded, and the wrist looked stiff but still in place. If she had to guess, she would say he had a hairline fracture. His face, miraculously, was only banged up a little. His bottom lip was split and bleeding and he had a huge gash across his right temple that poured blood, but he hadn't suffered a broken nose and the blindfold had shielded his eyes against loose rocks and gravel.

Through shallow, raspy breaths, Mike began, "I just...I had to...AAGH!" he screamed as Odin kicked him in the ribs. "SORRY! I'm done, okay? I promise! I won't do it again! Oooww!" Another kick. "What do you want me to- oof!" Another. Odin sat in expectant silence.Mike panted and began to say something else, but slight pressure on his ribs from Odin's foot put an end to that. Finally, she dragged him up by the arm and manhandled him once more into the back of a van.

\------------------------

Mike moaned through dry heaves of pain as the car moved again beneath him. Running off like that was stupid. There was no chance he could have gotten away. With grim satisfaction, Mike reminded himself that he hadn't really meant to. His leg throbbed, and he was losing lots of blood, but in his mind's eye, he could see the bloody bandage he had ripped off and thrown on the side of the road, unnoticed by Odin. His friends would find him. Now they had a clue. His odd sense of pride for having managed to trick Odin was almost enough to dull the pain and fear for just a little while. 

He was FBI Agent Mike Warren. He would make it through this. He had to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the way I plotted this story out, I didn't realize just how much I'd have to hurt Mike in it, and well- now I'm committed. As much as I want to take it easy on Mike, the only way that's going to happen is if he's calm, cowardly, and totally unMike-like, so...sorry Mike. This was your dream job, remember?

Briggs was no stranger to making tough decisions, and there was one thing he knew for sure: he had to look out for himself before he could even think of helping someone else. His unnofficial motto was a tweaked version of the phrase "Your rights end where your neighbor's rights begin."

He stopped to nab all the money from the secret stash Mike kept in his paperweight. 

In Briggs's mind, his neighbors' rights ended where HIS began. Technically, it meant the same thing, but to Briggs, the order in which these words were phrased was essential. It was for that reason, along with many others, that he didn't falter slightly in the execution of his newly developed scheme. He stepped out of the study and announced to Johnny and Charlie, "The office was ransacked, but none of the files are missing. Just a couple valuables."

"Mike had valuables in there?" Charlie inquired.

"Yeah. Some money, a nice watch, and some other stuff that would fetch a decent price at a pawn shop." Briggs embellished his bluff.

"So...what?" Johnny questioned. "A robbery? You can't think this was random." 

The door burst open and Paige dove through with Jakes on her heels. "Tell me we have a lead," she demanded of no one in particular. 

"Briggs thinks it was random." Johnny blurted defensively. "Like Mikey would let himself be taken by some random street thug."

"I never said I thought it was random either, Johnny!" Briggs snapped.

Jakes growled. "Can we figure out who has the kid already, cuz I seriously want to shoot someone and it'd be nice if that someone deserved it."

"Briggs. What's your theory?" Charlie asked.

And he bullshitted. It was what he did best. It was his job: his life. He let the words flow without examining them too closely first, because he didn't have time to examine them and he knew that somewhere, subconsciously, he already had them all planned out. "It's so damn stupid. I should have seen it coming. Think about it--when we talk to strangers, give people our covers, we don't make it a secret that we all live together."

"So?" Charlie asked quizzically.

"So, you're supposed to be a trust fund kid, I'm an astronaut, DJ's in a band, Johnny and Mike are pilots, and we all live in a really nice-ass house. There are only two types of outsiders we've brought here: Junkies we're trying to get in with, or locals we're trying to...to get IN with." 

"I see what you did there." Paige acknowledged solemnly. "And once I know Mike's safe and sound, you will be getting a fist bump." 

"So you think whoever has Mike is a junkie looking for money or one of our one-night stands looking for revenge?" Johnny surmised.

"It's a thought." Briggs said simply.

"God, I hope it's a junkie..." Johnny muttered. "Cuz we've all dated some crazy bitches."

\---------------------------

Odin had no trouble subduing a struggling Mike now. She grinned and twisted his bad wrist viciously. He hadn't been fighting her, not really, he had just flinched away on instinct when she touched his side. "I'm not fighting!" Mike cried, tears leaking out from under the blindfold. "I'm not fighting!" 

Odin squeezed the wrist once, sharply, before letting go. He hadn't escaped. He had been run down by her van, tossed in the back, and driven right back to the house. No one had seen him. She knew she would really make him pay for trying to escape this time, but for now, she thought she could give it a rest. Mike sighed in relief as her hand left his wrist, and he barely tensed up when she moved it to his back. She rubbed it soothingly until he finally let his shoulders sag. He let her pull him up and out, and though she saw his legs tremble, they did not give out, and he stayed upright only by leaning heavily against the car and exerting a LOT of willpower.

Jonah approached, duct tape in hand, and opened his mouth to say something. It remained open after she lifted a finger to her lips, and she wondered if he thought the gesture meant "freeze" instead of "silence." Slowly, Jonah nodded and gave her his "I get it" look, which was a rare treat indeed.

Wrenching him back by his good shoulder, Jonah slammed Mike into the van. "What are you-" was all the protest Mike managed to huff out before a piece of tape was sealed tightly against his lips and wrapped once around his head, which was then shoved  forward so that his forehead was pressed up against the warm metal. Instead of screaming through his gag as Odin expected, Mike simply...stayed. She chuckled quietly as Jonah wrenched his good wrist behind his back. The agent was far from broken, but they had certainly hit a milestone. Mike hadn't been this limp and obedient earlier, that was sure. He must be damn exhausted.

Jonah's gentler side surfaced once more and he wrapped Mike's bad wrist several times, tightly, the duct tape a makeshift cast. 

Finally, Mike showed brief signs of resistance when Jonah pinned his wrists together and smothered them in tape. Jonah ignored his struggles; the man really was a gentle soul at heart. Odin would have slammed Mike's surely aching frame into the van a few times, but Jonah was content to ignore the way Mike dug his feet into the ground and pushed backwards. No doubt the agent felt quite claustrophobic, pinned and suffocated by Jonah.

Jonah expertly unwound more duct tape and secured Mike's arms. He wrapped it several times across his shoulders, across his chest, down slightly past his elbows. Mike grunted and thrashed against the newly secured bonds and let out what might have been a very quiet whimper when he realized he couldn't move his upper body at all. Now, Odin was thoroughly enjoying herself.

Jonah stooped and started to secure Mike's ankles. Mike tried quickly to push off the van and fell back into Jonah, who simply absorbed the impact and wrapped his arms tightly around Mike's shoulders. And then, just a split second after Mike's face set in grim determination, Luis snagged his right leg, as he kicked it in the air. His expressiveness was a thing of beauty, even with his sparkling eyes concealed. It was certainly an advantage, at any rate. Mike howled behind his gag. Jonah noticeably winced when Luis further jostled the bad leg by wrenching up the other and holding them together, but he still duct taped them that way firmly and decisively.

They lowered Mike to the ground and he thrashed mindlessly- was he panicking or just putting up a fight because that's what you did when you were bound at the feet of a notorious drug lord? Odin gestured for them to come closer. "Do you guys know your interrogation tactics?"

"Is now really the time for a pop quiz?" Jonah retaliated. 

Mike stiffened, trying to listen through the silence. "Isolation," Odin hissed. "Deprive a captive of human contact for as long as possible before interrogation, and he's ready to spill his guts rather than be left all alone again."

Jonah grinned. "Hey!" he pointed out happily in a muted tone, "I actually got what we were doing without you having to tell me!"

Luis shrugged. "Don't you think he'd prefer his own company to ours?"

Odin smirked coldly. "Not our Mike. He's too young...too green...he already feels like he's all alone. He'll hate this more than anything."

"Harsh." Jonah whistled. "Permission to make a sexist joke?"

"Only if it's funny," Odin warned.

"Leave it to a lady drug dealer to torture a guy with the silent treatment." 

Odin grinned. "That was actually kind of funny."

From back by the car, Mike began to make muffled, questioning sounds. "Wow. This is gonna suck for him." Jonah observed.

\-------------------

"We need to file a missing person's report." Charlie decided.

"No!" Briggs snapped, and was that fear she heard in his voice? "If whoever has him doesn't know he's FBI and we reveal it, things could get much worse for him." 

Of course she heard fear. He was scared for the kid. "We can report him as a civilian gone missing."

Briggs shook his head. "Civilians over 18 have to be gone for at least 48 hours before they can be reported as missing. And don't think a crushed cell phone is good enough as probable cause. That could have easily happened if he were drunk or...upset."

Upset like if he just watched a guy get tortured almost to death so that you could track down a guy who needs to just get a damn master key already? 

Charlie suppressed the thought. Now wasn't the time. "So what should we do, break out the Ouaji board?" 

"Hell no!" Jakes snapped, "Those things are serious shit."

"I was joking." Charlie qualified. 

"Nothing is funny if it involves a damn Ouija board!" Jakes insisted.

Paige whistles loudly to command everyone's attention. "Jakes- slow your roll. We will get you therapy for your weird Ouija board phobia as soon as we can. It stops now. Charlie- You know how he feels about those things, don't try to act all innocent. Johnny- stop acting like the ice cream truck ran over your best friend and didn't even stop so you could buy a fudge sickle."

"That was oddly specific," Johnny muttered. 

Paige cleared her throat and continued. "And Briggs, for the love of GOD, whatever you're thinking, just spit it out. All of it. At once." 

Briggs appeared to be warring internally with himself, then he announced, "I've got some contacts who hear about this kind of stuff. I'll go out, talk them up, see what I can find. You all go to sleep and don't worry. He's a big boy and he can hold his own, he's proven that to us. And who wouldn't want a top FBI Agent searching for their missing person? We're already the best candidates to save Mike. The only thing that can get in our way is red tape. We do not report this. I promise, I come back in time for lunch and if I have nothing, I'll take all the blame."

Charlie opened her mouth to protest, but  was cut off by a yawn. Johnny echoed it. "Awww hell, you'd better come home tomorrow with a name and an address." he warned Briggs.

"Johnny, believe me when I tell you that I need to find the guys who kidnapped Mike. I won't be able to relax until I do."

There was a catch in his voice which seemed to indicate his genuine concern for his trainee...or for something else. She shook her head as Briggs barged out of the house. Since when was she so suspicious of  Briggs? 

Since he made Mike witness something which would probably haunt his dreams until he died, of course. Poor guy. His dream job probably didn't seem so desirable anymore. 

Johnny solemnly addressed the remaining three. "I know you're all worried about your friend, but I promise we are doing everything we can to find him. One of our best agents is working hard to locate him as we speak. The best you all can do for your friend is rest, stay fresh, and be here for him when he comes home."

After a contemplative silence, Paige grimaced. "Do you think that speech always sounds like complete and utter bullshit?" 

"It sounds nice when you're saying it, but when you ARE the friend...suddenly it's a lot harder to believe." Charlie said matter-of-factly, clearing her throat because it wasn't time to tear up yet, dammit! They didn't even know for sure that he was in trouble. She mentally prepared to berate Mike for being so thoughtless and disappearing like that, he couldn't do that, they thought he was kidnapped! Her speech was prepared by the time she dozed off to sleep, with just a blank she would fill in when she found out where he'd really been. "How could we know you were [insert activity that would cause your friend to smash his phone and disappear]? We couldn't have, you inconsiderate jackass!" All in all, it was a shitty speech, but she hoped to God that she would have to deliver it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it's your chance to interview the author:
> 
> You: What's with Jakes and Ouija boards?
> 
> Me: Everything. Everything is with Jakes and Ouija boards.
> 
> You: Huh?
> 
> Me: They just freak him out, okay?
> 
> You: Did that get mentioned on the show at some point? I don't remember tha-
> 
> Me: No.
> 
> You: Oh. So it's somehow important to the plot.
> 
> Me: No. Not that I'm aware of.
> 
> You: Oh, so you're freaked out by Ouija boards, so that's why you wrote that in?
> 
> Me: No. I have nothing against Ouija boards.
> 
> You: So then why does Jakes make such a big deal about them?
> 
> Me: I don't know! Why don't you ask HIM?!
> 
> You: *Quietly dials 911*
> 
> Me: *Gets taken to nice padded room where I have all the time in the world to write fanfiction*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I messed with timeframes a little bit. Basically, Briggs has already been supplying Bello for a while as Odin, but he's supplying Bello out of his own stash. He claimed to be Odin on the Boardwalk only to save himself when the real Odin didn't show up.

 Mike flexed, tightening and loosening his muscles in an effort to loosen the tape. All he managed to do, however, was aggravate his injured wrist. He choked down the muffled sound of pain and listened. Was that whispering he heard? He couldn't make out any words, which meant Odin must be giving important, possibly secret, orders. Wishing someone would speak to him like he was human again instead of trying to train him via Pavlovian tricks, Mike tried to yell through his gag. All that came out of it were muffled, somewhat pathetic-sounding "mmph" noises.

The murmuring ceased as two sets of footprints started toward him. Mike braced himself for another kick, but the hands simply dragged him up and into the van. He allowed himself to go limp in his bonds. Giving up was just not an option. They had him trapped for now, but he would find a new opportunity. He was one of the best, wasn't he?

Of course, situations like this hadn't quite been covered in his practicals. 

************************

"Paul? I don't remember requesting a wake up call," Bello snapped in a tone that few people could muster mere seconds after being rudely awakened at three o'clock.

"Would I waste your time?" Briggs asked good-naturedly. 

"For your sake, I hope not."

"Trust me, it's important. Have you seen Mike?" Briggs continued.

"Yes, he was with me for some time. We split up a few hours ago, right after he helped me...interview a competitor." Bello responded delicately.

"You mean that Caza thug you tortured?" Briggs was met with silence. "News travels fast," he smirked at the drug dealer's discomfort. 

"The activity matters not so much as the time frame, am I correct?" Bello replied.

"Yeah. So you definitely haven't heard from him since then?" Briggs urged.

"I have little patience for those who second guess me, Paul." he warned.

"Okay, alright, well, I'll just cut to the chase, then," Briggs answered, "I think a competitor of mine might have taken Mike hostage."

"What makes you think this? Michael is more than capable of looking after himself," Bello answered quickly. Aww, did he maybe even sound a little worried?

"In a fair fight, sure," Paul agreed, "But if they fought fair, they wouldn't still be in the competition."

"You speak of Caza, no? You believe they know it was his idea for me to switch suppliers from them to you?" Bello theorized.

"Not Caza," Briggs lied, "Just a small group of extremely dangerous people. I don't want to drag you into a war with them, but I need you to tell your men to be on the lookout for him or anything particularly suspicious. Don't engage them, just relay any info, and I can take care of it."

"I do not normally take direct orders," the dealer established. "But if these people manage to compete with Odin, they must be quite dangerous. I will do as you say."

Briggs thanked him and hung up. Having Bello's underworld contacts on the lookout for Mike certainly helped, but it was also highly dangerous. If one of Bello's men somehow found out that Mike's captor was actually the REAL Odin, he was screwed. And if a master deceiver like Briggs couldn't think of a good explanation, then there wasn't one.

*****************

Mike's ability to gauge where they were taking him was severely hindered by the fact that he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

He vaguely registered when the noise around him changed from the low rumble of a vehicle to the whooshing of wind, to the crash of waves and then the hum of a different kind of motor. He tried to make the noises into puzzle pieces and fit them together in his mind (a trick he always used when he didn't understand a situation) but although he could see a shape forming, he just couldn't get the pieces to click and stay together. Finally, he gave up and allowed himself to drift off again.

****************

The phone rang, jerking Briggs out of his meditative trance. He checked the time. Only two hours later and Bello was calling him? This was either very good or very bad. Paul took the call.

"Okay, impress me."

Bello sighed slightly at Paul's cockiness but said, "One of my patrol parties found something that-"

"You sent out patrol parties? Damn! Is there something I don't know about you and Mike?" Briggs strategically interrupted; trying to maintain his carefree business attitude.

"On a road. We found multiple fresh tire tracks and a bloody bandage. Normally, we'd ignore such a thing, but it seemed like it may be relevant."

Briggs thought about it. "What road?"

When Bello told him, Briggs yelled, "Woah! Okay, that's it! I'll meet your men over there!" He hung up without waiting for a reply and charged out of his house.

Mike actually thought Paul didn't know where his girlfriend lived. 

He was Paul Briggs.

He kept track of that sort of thing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I've been putting this off because I was hoping to think of a way some of the things that have been revealed this season could fit in with the story, but then I thought "screw it. It's a first-season story." So here's an eensy chapter just to prove I haven't forgotten this story :)

Charlie jerked awake and checked the digital clock on her nightstand. She had been asleep a full 17 minutes. Well, she could function on less. She vaguely remembered details of her nightmare, but she was losing it by the second; she swore she could actually feel the dream draining out of her head. Charlie had half expected to have some terrible dream about Mike and what he might be going through right now. There were stories of agents who dreamt of those they failed to save yelling at them; pleading to them, bargaining with them. But Charlie didn't dream of Mike. She just had one of those dreams where something was chasing her. She was running and falling through darkness, and maybe- had her pursuer been Briggs? It didn't matter. She may not have dreamt of Mike, but she was certainly too anxious to get any kind of restful sleep while he was missing. Sighing, she threw bak the covers and headed downstairs.

Johnny was waiting for her in the kitchen. She sat down beside him, and he slid her a cup of coffee. "Cheers," he said grimly, holding up his own, and Charlie wordlessly clinked cups with him before getting started on the scalding liquid. After a few quiet moments, Johnny spoke again. "Paige'll be down here any second. I give Jakes 20 minutes, tops."

Charlie shook her head and gave him a small smile. "You think you know us so well."

Johnny merely waggled his eyebrows and looked past her at Paige, who had just entered the room. He passed her another coffee, and nine minutes later, Jakes joined them as well. 

They all consumed mass quantities if coffee in silence, burning through two more pots of the stuff. Finally, Johnny spoke up. "We need to look for Mike."

"And see what Briggs is up to," Charlie added.

Johnny grimaced. "Yeah, my man Briggs may have been acting just a little sketchy."

"Oh, really? Cos I thought maybe it was just my imagination," Jakes grumped sarcastically.

Johnny responded in kind. "Don't blame your imagination, Jakes. We all know you're not even on speaking terms with it."

Paige cut in. "What are we going to do, just get out and walk the streets until we find something?"

"I dunno. It beats just laying around," Johnny retaliated.

"We'll find a trail or something," Charlie insisted. "Mike's clever. If he's really in trouble, he'll find a way to drop some bread crumbs."

"You better believe it," Johnny agreed. "Mikey won't give up until he's dead." Charlie glared at him. "Which he's not," he clarified quickly. "He's just fine. He'll come back to us real soon."

Jakes shook his head. "We shouldn't get naïve. We need to prepare for the worst."

"Worst? What worst? I'm telling you now, Michael Warren will live a long and happy life and die peacefully in his sleep at 103."

"Dumbass," Jakes muttered.

Paige frowned. "Come on, guys. Mike needs us. If we're gonna do this, let's do it."

Johnny'd eyebrows shot up and he pointed at her. "Guys, Paige is being professional! That means she's in charge! What's the plan, boss?"

Paige rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."

Looking suddenly very serious, Johnny said, "I mean it. You're obviously on your game right now. Whatever's best for Mike, that's what we should do. And that means you're in charge."

Charlie raised her hand. "Seconded. Paige, you managed to rescue Jakes and Johnny single-handed."

Jakes looked annoyed at the mention of that incident, but he agreed. "Paige, just get us going already."

Paige took a deep breath, looking nervous, and Charlie gave her a reassuring smile. "Hey. The pressure's on all of us. None of us are more or less obligated to save Mike. But someone's gotta be in charge, or we'll never get anywhere."

"Okay." Paige nodded. "Okay." 

For a moment, she was still, staring off into space. Then, she snapped into action. "Charlie, you've been suspicious of Briggs lately."

Charlie made to protest, but Paige ignored her. "You'll cover the Briggs stuff. See if you can figure out who his 'contacts' are. Maybe see if you can track him down. Shadow him. See what he's hiding from us."

Johnny looked distinctly unhappy, and Paige addressed him next. "C'mon Johnny, Briggs never tells us what's going on. You know that. That's just his way." 

"Yeah, maybe," Johnny conceded.

"You are going to be proactive," Paige continued. "Gather up first aid stuff, gas up a good car. Get everything we need in place. We want to be able to get going as soon as we know where to find Mike. Don't complain, it's an important job and you know it." 

Johnny sighed.

"Jakes," Paige continued, "You're going to feel out your own contacts. If Mike was kidnapped because he's FBI, they won't expect someone from Customs to be looking for him. That'll buy us some time before they notice we're looking."

"That is...a surprisingly good idea," Jakes agreed.

Ignoring the "surprisingly," Paige finished her plan. "Like I said, Mike came home earlier. I saw him before I went out. I'm not fully convinced that Briggs did a thorough search, or that he didn't find anything of importance. I'm going to look around Mike's room and the study."

Charlie grinned suddenly. "Alright, gang, let's split up and look for clues!"

"Oh, very funny," Paige deadpanned. "And one last thing before we all get started."

"Yeah?" Johnny asked impatiently. 

"We should all go pee, cos that was in insane amount of coffee we drank."


End file.
